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SCP-6759

The Beating Heart of New York

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Item#: 6759

Level2

Containment Class:

euclid

Secondary Class:

notice

Disruption Class:

vlam

Risk Class:

warning

link to memo

Recovered image from SCP-6759 exploration

Special Containment Procedures: The site housing the entrance to SCP-6759 has been acquired by the Foundation and Provisional Site-89 has been built around it; Site-89 is to be staffed by at least four armed guards at all times. Only Foundation personnel are granted access to Site-89; any civilians within the perimeter are to be administered Class-A amnestics and escorted off the premises.

SCP-6759-1 instances found within the perimeter of Site-89 are to be interviewed and escorted back to SCP-6759. Interviewers are encouraged to inquire about topics such as their experience within the city and the nature of "The Crux".
Exploration into SCP-6759 must be authorized by Director Fuschl. Personnel exiting SCP-6759 must undergo a 2-hour quarantine and a standard decontamination procedure.

Description: SCP-6759 is an extradimensional, labyrinthine space composed of alleyways and buildings, it conforms to none of Euclid's 15 postulates. Layout, architectural style, and materials are inconsistent between buildings.
Regardless of what side is viewed, observers will perceive the front of the building. The buildings' heights cannot be determined, as upon inspection they appear to extend indefinitely into the sky, only obscured from view by a thick fog. Testing has provided inconclusive results on the composition of the fog. Attempts to measure the height of buildings within SCP-6759 via drones have failed.
Various cognitive hazards are present within SCP-6759, at the time of writing none have proven lethal or significantly dangerous.

The entry to SCP-6759 is located between ██ and ██ street, New York City. It appears to be a standard alleyway but ends in a separate passageway with no visible light passing through.

SCP-6759 does not adhere to any known laws of physics; gravity is inconsistent and matter can be created and destroyed, with temporal anomalies being common. Any effects inflicted on subjects disappear shortly after exiting SCP-6759.

SCP-6759-1 instances are the inhabitants of SCP-6759 and vary wildly between appearance and properties, although are usually non-anomalous humans. SCP-6759-1 instances regard the city as their home and act like typical New York citizens, speaking the local dialect where of the area SCP-6759 is found in. Many instances incorporate the various anomalies of the city into their lifestyle; when questioned about their lifestyle within SCP-6759, they claim it is the way things normally are.

SCP-6759-2 is the broad designation given to other anomalies found within SCP-6759. Such as anomalous entities or objects separate from buildings.

Addendum 6759.1: Exploration log

Initial Exploration Video Log Transcript

Date: 12/08/2018

Exploration Team: Special Agent Goodwell, Special Agent Jenkins.

Foreword: Shortly after the discovery of SCP-6759, two agents were sent into the anomaly to gain intelligence about the interior.
Each member was supplied with reality anchors, Kant counters, and cognitohazard-detectors, along with standard exploration gear to prepare for any hazards detected by Foundation drones before the mission.


[BEGIN LOG]

Site Command: Recording's starting.

Goodwell: Ready?

Jenkins: Ready.

Jenkins and Goodwell step through the threshold, and the camera feed cuts to static for two seconds before reconnecting

Goodwell: Holy shit.

Agents Goodwell and Jenkins appear to be in a wide alleyway. Buildings are standard as to what would be expected outside the anomaly, apart from the gaping mouth on the nearest left. Most other buildings seem to have some variations. There is a stegosaurus present, and a few abstract shapes, There are also some standard civilians within the anomaly, apart from an instance who is wearing all of its clothes backward. The video quality has lowered significantly.

Jenkins: Jeez, you weren't kidding Shan, this place does look… bizarre, to say the least.

Goodwell: I'm sure there's a pattern. I'm waiting for some wizards to come out and tell us this is just a weirder part of Three Portlands.

Jenkins: Well, we'll see.

An SCP-6759-1 instance is seen approaching. It is wearing khaki shorts and a stained tank top.

SCP-6759-1 Instance: Yo, y'all the 'xterminators?

Jenkins: No sir, we are conducting an investi'ation.

SCP-6759-1 Instance: Woah, woah! I ain't tryna fight 'ere! If you're the cops round 'ere I don't got any beef.

Jenkins: No we're… Would you mind telling us if you saw anything suspicious?

The SCP-6759-1 instance winks.

SCP-6759-1 Instance: Anything for New York's finest, bit earlier on I peeped somethin' over at Grondo's Casino over there. Don't tell 'em I told you aight?

Jenkins: Thanks.

A faint rhythmic beating is heard.

SCP-6759-1 Instance: Don't snitch! 'Member, follow our heart. The Crux beckons.

The SCP-6759-1 instance walks to a tricycle that it mounts. After snapping its fingers 7 times, the instance and the tricycle sink violently into the ground.

Jenkins: The 'ell?

Goodwell: Wh- Huh?

Goodwell: Focus, focus. That could be the building he meant, I'm assuming so, given the slot machines jutting out the side over there. Alright, Jenkins, ready the anchor.

Jenkins: Shan, I think we've been through enough missions together to be on a first-name basis.

Agent Goodwell sighs.

Goodwell: Not now.

Jenkins: Okay, okay.

Jenkins pulls out the reality anchor from his pack and readies the activation mechanism.

Goodwell: The entities here seem non-hostile, but keep range and keep your guard up.

Agent Goodwell and Jenkins approach the building, Jenkins turns on the reality anchor but on activation it melts into gummy worms.

Jenkins: Wha- I'm uhh… Guessin', we can't use those 'ere.

Goodwell: Shit, that's a bad sign. But we just started the mission. It wouldn't be worth the funds to leave now.

Goodwell: I'll run a perimeter check.

Agent Goodwell walks around the left side of the building, a wooden trapdoor manifests where she was previously standing, and she climbs out of it.

Goodwell: Nothing new. I'll enter the building, you stay out here to keep guard and make sure nothing happens.

Jenkins: Great.

Agent Jenkins goes to stand outside the door.

Jenkins: Command you seein' this? There's some sort of mold out here, it's purrin' at me. Bit cute actually.

Jenkins bends down to touch the mold, and when he does, it becomes a matryoshka doll.

Jenkins: Huh?

Goodwell enters the building while Jenkins remains posted outside the door, as she enters the camera feed turns to static.

Goodwell: Bigger on the inside, I guess.

Site Command: Video cut out, describe your surroundings.

Goodwell: Interior appears to be larger than seen on the outside. Here's what I believe is the other side of the slot machines. They are rectangular and have scales, it looks like they're pulsating and twitching. I caught a glimpse of some sort of visual cognitohazard, not sure what it was, but now my left arm is green, and it tingles a bit.
The layout seems like a regular casino, but some of the gambling machines are dispensing candy corn, and further into the room the floor is flooded. The inhabitants look like regular civilians. There are also these butterflies with more wings on their wings.

Recovered from Agent Goodwell's camera.

Splashes are heard, presumably, Goodwell is stepping into the water.

Goodwell: There is a slug with the head of Abraham Lincoln. It's carrying a platter of some kind of viscous yellow substance to me.

SCP-6759-2 Instance:
Unintelligible.

Goodwell: Excuse me?

The SCP-6759-2 instance gives no further response.

Goodwell: Instance appears… Harmless.

Agent Goodwell is heard shuffling away from the instance.

Goodwell: I'm going to investigate somewhere else.

2 minutes of silence apart from occasional splashes and footsteps.

Goodwell: Found something, it's a normal slot machine, but its payline resembles what appears to be fruits I believe, but they don't seem to be like any I've ever seen. There is also a very large lever on the side.

Agent Goodwell grunts and a mechanical beep is heard, followed by a thud.

Goodwell: Thing punched me! There's a note here, "Don't gamble, kids".

Goodwell is heard muttering indiscernibly under her breath.

Goodwell: I'll keep searching.

12 minutes of silence apart from occasional splashes, footsteps, and clattering. A faint rhythmic beating is heard.

Goodwell: I'm further into the building now. There are more of the slug things from earlier, but different presidents, there's Ilham Aliyev, Jack Pithey, and Stephanus Schoeman.

Note: Prior to this mission, Agent Goodwell had no experience regarding the political history of Rhodesia, Azerbaijan, or South Africa.

Goodwell: More slot machines, but I won't pull any more levers. The room here is becoming more cavernous as I venture further in, it doesn't seem like there's anything worth finding in here. I'll get ba- HEY, YOU! STOP RIGHT THERE!

Agent Goodwell begins running, presumably away from the entrance since the audio feed begins cutting out.

Goodwell: Command come in! There's an ag-

All connection from Agent Goodwell is lost.

Site Command: Agent Goodwell? Come in Agent Goodwell! Jenkins, are you still there?

Jenkins: Yeah, I'm just sittin' 'ere. Stoppin' and bein' smelled by the flowers. How much longer do I 'ave to stay here?

Site Command: Are you able to get out?

Jenkins: Yes, the entrance is still 'ere, there was a little blue fellow earlier who tried to take it away but I shooed 'im off.

Site Command: We lost Agent Goodwell. Get back, we don't want you lost either.

Jenkins: What? Shouldn't I go in there and look for 'er?

Site Command: Too risky.

Jenkins: So I just leave? No!

Site Command: Jenkins, push your personal feelings aside, and get out.

Jenkins: Fuck you, I'm gonna find 'er.

Site Command: We're afraid that if you do that, you'll be classified as lost as well.

Agent Jenkins kicks at the ground, a section of which grunts and shouts profanity.

Jenkins:

After 30 seconds, Agent Jenkins exits SCP-6759.

Closing statement: Little information was gathered on the nature of SCP-6759 and the mission was deemed a failure. Agent Goodwell is classified as missing. Agent Jenkins' request for another mission into SCP-6759 has been denied.

Addendum 6759.2:
On 17/09/2018, a stack of handwritten documents formatted as standard SCP personal exploration logs on A4 paper was found outside the entrance to SCP-6759. The handwriting, DNA, and fingerprints on the paper match Agent Shan Goodwell. Further research into SCP-6759 is currently ongoing.
- Hide SCP-6759 logs

SCP-6759 Personal Exploration Log.1

This is Agent Shan Goodwell and I'm writing this from the inner dimension of SCP-6759. These logs are to act as an account of my experience here for research purposes. Or as a black box, although hopefully, it won't come to that.

I'm writing these entries on paper I found growing on the bark of a tree. The pencil was gifted to me by someone who asked me to reattach their arm. She didn't seem distressed, and I did a first aid course back at the academy. Turns out I just had to push it into the stump and all the muscles, and veins fused back together. The pencil is alright, just standard graphite with a button on the end that makes my next word glitter. I'll do my best to refrain from pushing it.

If you're reading this, Jenkins, I suppose I should provide context to my disappearance; I was exploring deeper in the casino, when I saw an inhabitant wearing a UIU badge, at the time I was acting rashly and shouldn't have gone after him, but I thought this place was a part of Three Portlands or some weirder Nexus. I apologize for my actions, it was negligent of me to leave. At the time I wanted answers and wasn't thinking clearly.
When I shouted to him he attempted to flee, and I pursued him. When he was apprehended, his UIU badge turned into a GOC emblem, then into an SCP logo. When I tried to exit the building, I found myself in an entirely different place.
I concluded at that point I was lost. Given how violently non-euclidean this place is, I figured there's no way of reliably finding anything here, I hope you didn't follow me. It would have proven futile, and you most likely would have ended up in the same situation as me.

Once apprehended, I took the inhabitant into an empty building. The interior was a single office block but all the stationary seemed to be made of felt or knitted together in some way. I assumed the wool would soundproof the area but everything echoed. It seemed adequate to hold an impromptu interview, and I'm not sure where I might have found better options. I held a rudimentary interview using my supplies on hand. I've attached a transcript of the interview below. Please excuse the rushed handwriting. I had to try and transcribe the interview afterwards.


SCP-6759 Interview.1

Interviewed: SCP-6759 Resident

Interviewer: Agent Goodwell

Foreword: Goal of the interview was to deduce information about SCP-6759. Performed with improvised equipment.

<Begin Log, 12/08/2018>

Agent Goodwell: Begin interview, who are you?

SCP-6759 Resident: My name is Garrett Cristiano, I'm 27 years old. What did I do wrong, officer? I promise I never meant to water that plingod!

Agent Goodwell: I don't work with the police, and what's a plingod?

SCP-6759 Resident: Are you new here?

Agent Goodwell: Yes, I suppose. Are you able to answer some more questions?

SCP-6759 Resident: You look like you would make a good fit here. I'd be happy to answer some questions, ma'am.

Agent Goodwell: Thank you, Do you have any affiliation with any anomalous organization?

SCP-6759 Resident: I'm not sure what you mean.

Agent Goodwell: The GOC, UIU, Chaos Insurgency, do you recognize the badges you were wearing?

SCP-6759 Resident: No, the badge was growing on my shirt for a week, glad it's gone. It was a nightmare to clean.

Agent Goodwell: Are badges growing on clothes a regular occurrence here?

SCP-6759 Resident: No, I bet I was just unlucky.

Agent Goodwell: Right. Next question, Why are you here?

SCP-6759 resident: I live here, as a matter of fact, just up 2,372nd avenue by the bodega. I work as a penguin dipper on the left of the Crux.

Agent Goodwell: What's the Crux?

SCP-6759 Resident: Ya know, it's the Crux.

Agent Goodwell: Please elaborate, Cristiano.

SCP-6759 Resident: I don't know. It's just the Crux.

Agent Goodwell: Well… Yes, but what does it do?

SCP-6759 Resident: Umm, it does the laundry, for starters.

Agent Goodwell: The Crux… Does the laundry? Is that it?

SCP-6759 Resident: Well yeah, among other things.

Agent Goodwell: This is going nowhere, what's the point of the Crux?

A faint rhythmic beating is heard.

SCP-6759 Resident: Well it do-

A thick fog manifested within the interrogation room, engulfing the SCP-6759 Resident. When the fog cleared, the subject disappeared and a Funko Inc™ brand bobblehead was found with a similar appearance to the resident in its place. Approximately 2 minutes later, the resident fell from the ceiling, unchanged apart from a mole above its upper lip.

Agent Goodwell: Are you okay? That looked pretty rough.

SCP-6759 Resident: I am cauterized.

Agent Goodwell: Sorry?

SCP-6759 Resident: The Crux needs me elsewhere, have you any more questions?

Agent Goodwell: What happened? What did you do?

SCP-6759 Resident: Follow our heart.

The skin and muscles of the SCP-6759 resident appear to unfurl, and its bones turn to dust.

<End Log, 12/08/2018>


SCP-6759 Personal Exploration Log.2

This is Agent Shan Goodwell. Once the subject was gone, I tried to find a place to rest. I was probing each building individually, a lot of buildings were rooms filled with random objects and furniture in no particular order or pattern. Some notable exceptions included: a tennis court where the net was made of frankfurters and the floor was satin sheets, a medieval dungeon with inverted colors and a transparent lawn flamingo in the center, and a giant cat litter tray.

I settled on a food court to stay the night, it's quite big and the food is adequate, edible, and possibly Greek. I mentioned my writing supplies and most other necessities and comforts were easily scavenged in the street. I set up a place to rest and blocked the door. There are a few other people in here but they have their own rooms behind the various food outlets, which I assume is where they live. I'll write my next entry once I get a better grasp of my situation.


SCP-6759 Personal Exploration Log.3

This is Agent Shan Goodwell, it's been a while since my last entry. Time doesn't work here, or at least there isn't a normal day-night other than sudden and unexpected bursts of light or short periods of extreme darkness. I gave up on finding a stationary place to stay, every time I either woke up somewhere else or return to it and find another building in its place. I've survived by keeping all my belongings on my person and resting in any place that looks comfortable.

I've discovered some things about this place over the last few days (hours? Weeks?), nothing here is inherently hostile to life, although there were some beings earlier that, as nice as they seemed, I don't think I could have survived being near them. The people here are mostly normal; I interviewed a few more of them. All the interviews go along the same lines. Going to work, describing their daily routine, and something about football and the Bronx.

I'm not quite sure if this counts as anything, but I know it definitely exists. Every resident I've interviewed here has had some sort of reaction when I mentioned The Crux; they all just looked scared and ran away. I never pressed any of them further after the first one. It's clear that whatever The Crux is, it is of importance to the city, and I don't know where or what it is.

It's been difficult here, hardly any of my training applies here. I've had to relearn everything I knew to try and learn about this place. But I feel strangely welcome here.


Note: 14 Interview transcripts were among the papers, however, have been removed for brevity given how similar they all are. -Fuschl.


SCP-6759 Personal Exploration Log.4

This is Agent Shan Goodwell. Still lost, I gave up on making a theory for this place. There is no hidden code written in the bricks, there is no secret governing body, no gangs, groups, or anything else. The only real thing is The Crux and I can't find it. I've been trying to find it for… It feels like forever. I settled on walking around until things happen. I can never predict any events that happen. From what I know maybe it's the best way of finding the Crux. Honestly though? Once I realized nothing here was inherently hostile or particularly dangerous, this place got a lot more bearable.
I might be going crazy, I started hearing static and it just gets louder the farther I go, and it started beating.

"Protocol-25-C-1: If separated from your group in a pocket dimension or are lost with no means of being found in the foreseeable future, keep a log of any and all experiences or events so that researchers may use it for research if found." I'm surprised I still remember that. I suppose that what I liked about the foundation was its structure, which externally looked like a chaotic, bureaucratic nightmare, but everything had a reason and a goal. No point in writing down my "day" to "day" experiences, at this point I'm sure any researchers have given up on finding a purpose in this place.


SCP-6759 Personal Exploration Log.5

This is Agent Shan Goodwell. I still haven't found the Crux yet. But I feel closer. It's like a… Well, I can't really explain it.

Imagine you're deep underwater, and there's no light, and suddenly you feel the pressure around you change, like you're no longer in a large body of water, but a smaller one. Is that how water works? Whatever.
Something's different, I'm not sure what exactly caused it, maybe I was just going long enough, or I did something, right?
I can hardly remember my partner's face. Jennings, I think.

I've been thinking about the Foundation recently, mostly how I liked the structure and bureaucracy of it all. I could always get through whichever mission I was given because I knew there was a protocol or a procedure that would lead me out of whichever monster I was fighting, or hell I was in.
Maybe that's why I'm warming up to this place, I can sense an order under all of it. As if it's all connected. Maybe the citizens had it right all along.


SCP-6759 Personal Exploration Log.6

This is Agent Shan Goodwell again. I was right for once, I found it. I don't even think there were any clues. I just thought that with enough time I was bound to find The Crux. Let me clarify that I'm writing this log as I'm approaching. I suppose I should describe it. There is a clearing, way bigger than anything I've seen, it's just a big, empty, perfect square, where everything ends in a stark white, concrete. It's honestly quite jarring after walking through the cramped alleys I've become familiar with.
It's so loud.
All the weirdness of the rest of the city keeps out of here, you can tell there's a clear line between all the oddities and the square. As I walked, in, some of the citizens looked at me weirdly, like they were envious. Even the many-limbed sea lion that's been following me for the past few days ran off. I might be too wary from my time here, but I even walked around the square and it actually stayed the same, for once a square had 4 sides! In the center of the square, there is a big heart; its arteries and veins are connected to the floor, still beating. It speaks to me, I think it might be the city. Finally, I can see it all now. It's everywhere, and everything in it bears its mark.

I can hear a heartbeat now. I was right. I was right from the beginning, it's all the Crux, the roads are veins, and the people its blood. If this is its heart I'll soon flow to the rest of its body. I'll be a part of it soon. It's beautiful, and I'd like to see more of this creature. It's telling me to enter it. How can the flow of blood deny the beating heart?


Note: The final document appears to have been written much more recently, as opposed to the rest of the papers which are more creased and appear to have scorch marks and glitter.

Shan's Diary 72/45/12724

This is Agent Goodwell, the thing is to
I'm still Shan Goodwell. This is going to be my final log; there's a portal door here to the rest of New York which is why I'm writing this. I owe you enough to give you my papers. I think I'll stay here, I want to see more of it, perhaps I'll find the lungs next. Goodbye. Follow our heart.